


In the Cage of Love #23-6-6

by Palytoxin



Series: Love & Pride [4]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rome 2018, unbeta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 15:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palytoxin/pseuds/Palytoxin
Summary: Sascha was afraid this would be his inevitable future, no way to escape but accept living with the pain, enjoying the pain, and finally loving it, like what he saw Rafa had ever done and would always do.





	In the Cage of Love #23-6-6

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why it just happened....
> 
> The idea of Rafa with Sascha was actually a joke when I saw how he looked at Rafa at the ceremony of ATP final 2017. But the final of Rome was too much, the way they hug at the net, and what Sascha said on Rafa was almost the same as what Rafa said on Roger at Hamberg 2007. It's just like a reincarnation...  
> And Domi really disappointed me a lot recently, both the way he played and...
> 
>  
> 
> Please be free to comment～it's alway pleasure to know your thought or get kudos.  
> Thanks for reading~xoxo

Rafa saw those two super long legs hanging over the arm of sofa right after he entered his room. And the active and frisky Lövik was greeting him immediately at the hallway. He lowered himself and patted his head. He slowly got used to the presence of this little creature. He wasn’t that kind of person who felt comfortable with animals though. He walked to the kitchen area with Lövik chasing him around the feet.

He just finished the postmatch treatment and pleased all the media with numerous interviews and photos. He was more than a little surprised to see Sascha here, in his room. He didn’t think he would come tonight, not after they played such an edgy match.

 

He opened the refrigerator to get some water but saw an item that’s impossible to be here according to his restricted diet program.

“You put this ice cream?”

“I bought it from a vendor on my way here.”

“You no know I’m on diet?”

“I know, but I made you run a lot. I guess it won’t hurt too much.”

He heard Sascha smirking. However, it was too tense. It sounded like he wasn’t really happy at all.

 

Sascha saw Rafa coming closer with Lövik held in his arm. He always felt heart blooming when he saw these two together. He was fond of them. He wouldn’t forget the first time Rafa met Lövik. He looked awkward, stiffed, acting like he faced a 90-pound Dobermann. It’s really inconsistently cute. The toughest guy in the circuit was sacred by little sweet Lövik. This mismatch always amused him. He would never tell anyone about this. He wanted to keep it for himself only.

He moved aside to let Rafa sit beside him. He couldn’t sit himself up but lean on Rafa’s back, face burying in the curve of his neck and shoulder. He was exhausted. The adrenaline was washed away, only tiredness remained. Rafa knew this kid was upset, even he managed to force a smile through the ceremony and tried to talk something light now. He put his hand on those blond locks and patted.

“Sorry for ending your winner streak, Alejandro.”

“Do you really think I can win a grand slam?” Sascha's voice muffled in the nape of Rafa’s neck. He was nuzzling like a kitten, asking for attention.

“He said the same, no? Be patient. You just need time.”

“You’ve won it at nineteen.”

“Don’t push yourself so hard.” Rafa’s fingers dug into the sore spot over his right shoulder precisely. He winced, muscle twitching.

“Go to the doctor after you go home. Don’t risk your health.”

“You’ve risked it more times than anybody else.”

“No one warned me, no?”

 

He laid his head on Rafa’s thigh. It wasn’t really comfortable, too hard. But those strong fingers combing through his hair consistently made it acceptable.

“You will win it someday. I no doubt that.”

Rafa said every word with full genuineness. He never said things that he didn’t believe and there is no need to worried about what he told Rafa would be used to hurt himself. This is why Sascha liked him so much even he knew that sometimes Rafa didn’t really see him, just like now.

Rafa kept stoking through those long blond curls which always reminded him of the other man. And their similar bad temper on court sometimes distracted him a lot, just like today when Sascha smashed the racket with frustration. Seeing these young generations coming up made him feel so old. He didn’t think he would still play at his age now.

But Sascha made him think more, thinking about his past, how left off he felt those days. He saw the familiar struggles in that kunzite-green eyes. He couldn’t figure out whether things would be easy for himself if there have been someone to enlighten him or not. But he was willing to give some help, whatever he could do. He tried to smooth the furrows between the eyebrows off from this beautiful face. Those sad expressions didn’t suit him at all.

“I wish you happy. Nothing is more important than you’re happy and healthy.”

 

The true worry inside Rafa’s voice broke Sascha’s disguise. He couldn’t suppress the bitterness he kept feeling for weeks. He had won a lot from the beginning of clay season. He should be happier than most of the players. But the happiness didn’t last long, fading away more easily than he expected.

“It hurts when I saw him lose. It hurts more when I lifted the trophy beside him. Did you feel the same when you played him?”

They never mentioned those names when they’re along, they both knew too well. It’s unbearable, even just saying it out.

“Yeah.... It would far more hurt when the day you two play final every weekend comes. Either win or lose. And one of you would be crashed someday and decide to break the bond between each other. “

“I saw. He cried on the podium, right?”

He felt the muscle under his head tensed. This was probably the deepest wound buried inside Rafa.

“Yeah...”

“What did you do then?”

“Self-harm until collapsed on court.” Rafa spoke distantly, voice plain and cold, but the self-contempt was no way to be ignorant.

 

Sascha dragged himself up, wrapping his arms around the man in front of him. Rafa was supposed to be stronger and tougher than anyone else. However, sometimes he looked like he was broken into pieces, too fragile and pale. He felt warm liquid streaming down his neck. He tightened his hug, pressing numerous featherlike kisses upon his hair. Rafa hugged back reluctantly, fabrics creased under his fingers. They’re two wounded animals licking each other’s wounds.

“Never do like me, Alejandro, never.”

 

But he was afraid this would be his inevitable future, no way to escape but accept living with the pain, enjoying the pain, and finally loving it, like what he saw Rafa had ever done and would always do.

**Author's Note:**

> *Alejandro is the Spanish form of the name Alexander.


End file.
